


In a Name

by Woofemus



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: F/F, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 02:22:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13331481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woofemus/pseuds/Woofemus
Summary: Zeke tries to give Brighid a title.





	In a Name

**Author's Note:**

> someday I'll write something that isn't a shitpost but that day is not today
> 
> based off a heart to heart with zeke, pandoria, and pyra

They're causing such a loud commotion that Brighid finds herself wandering over. Truth be told, it's an odd enough scene to warrant her curiosity, with Zeke and Pyra looking fired up for whatever reason and Pandoria staring at them as if they've lost their minds. Zeke makes sense, but Pyra?

“Brighid!” Pandoria greets frantically the moment she sees Brighid coming over to them. “You've gotta help me! These two have lost it!”

Being nosy has its downsides, Brighid finds.

“Hah! You just don't understand! The power having a title gives you… seeing your enemies tremble when they know who they're fighting… it's exhilarating!”

“Um… we didn't get scared or run away from you when we heard your title though,” Pyra points out.

Zeke recoils and makes a choked sound as if he's been stabbed. “Ugh! Well, you're the Aegis! Not much out in the world can scare you, can it?”

Pyra pushes her fingers together. “I... still think spiders are scary.”

Zeke stares at her. Pyra stares back though she gets increasingly nervous as time passes.

“I think spiders are scary too, Pyra,” Pandoria says, breaking the awkward stalemate between the other two. Pyra shoots her a thankful smile.

Brighid wants to leave. Maybe Mòrag needs her somewhere. Brighid subtly turns her head around, trying to find her Driver. Or well, a getaway. Even Dromarch himself would be a better conversationalist than… this ridiculous talk.

Unfortunately, the Architect has other ideas.

Never one to be left out, Brighid catches Mòrag striding over to them instead. She’s looking over at Brighid, who’s trying really hard to tell her to turn the other way around with a helpless shrug of her shoulders. Except maybe she seems _too_ helpless because Mòrag, Architect bless her, hardens her gaze and increases her stride, perhaps thinking she needs to save Brighid from Zeke’s wild gesticulations.

So much for running away.

“What is everyone doing here?” Mòrag asks the moment she joins them.

Zeke grins at her. “We were just thinking up some new titles for ourselves! I mean, I came up with one for myself, but Pyra here wanted one too!”

“Oh?” Mòrag shoots a look at Brighid, looking like she's starting to regret even coming over here but always one to press on regardless of danger, she composes herself. “Titles, you say?”

“Yeah!” Pyra smiles, still excited. “He called me Pyra von Aegis, Omen of… of… um…” she trails off in embarrassed silence, blushing slightly as she looks over at Zeke for help, which he happily gives in true Zeke fashion.

He throws out his hands toward Pyra, who even gets caught up in his dramatics by putting a hand on her hip and stepping forward to pose. “Meet Pyra von Aegis, Omen of Retribution!”

Silence. No one says anything for such a long time that pinkness starts to creep across Pyra’s face. Brighid gives her points for even managing to stand there for as long as she does without dying of embarrassment.

Mòrag takes the plunge for all of them as she coughs politely into her hand. “It's… well, a mouthful.”

Zeke scowls. “Not even! I could have added more words!”

“Please don’t,” Pyra and Mòrag both say at the same time. Zeke sulks and Pandoria snickers.

“Finally, someone speaking sense,” Pandoria says with glee, more than glad there are _other_ people speaking her language.

Until Mòrag says the worst thing Brighid's ever heard her say in all their years together.

“How about something for me, then?” Mòrag asks, a smirk on her face, clearly more than amused. About what, Brighid doesn’t understand. Her Driver gets oddly… uppity about the strangest things sometimes. If only Brighid's keen eye told her to stay far away in the beginning.

Zeke frowns at Mòrag. “You already have _two_ titles, Flamebringer! Some of us regular folk need some too!”

“W-what?!” Mòrag looks so offended that it would have made Brighid tease her if this were any other conversation. But Mòrag quickly recovers to glare at him. “Zeke, need I remind you that _you_ are the Crown Prince of Tantal, I hardly think that _you_ count as regular—”

Zeke isn't listening to her, but that's because he's honed in on Brighid instead _._ Oh, no. Brighid isn't sure she likes where this is going to go. No, she’s _certain_ she's not going to like where this is going to go. “But you, Brighid, you don't really have anything, do ya?”

Brighid half-considers keeping silent and furrowing her brow so he can understand she's glaring at him and walk away after. But Brighid has appearances to keep, and even _she_ isn't that impolite. Though she really doesn't feel like humoring him, she'll answer, if only because maybe he’ll leave her alone and go back to Pyra. “No, but I suppose they do call me the Jewel of Mor Ardain.”

Zeke waves his hands dismissively. “That doesn’t count! It’s not _cool_ enough! Not even anything in that journal of yours mention anything?”

“Not that I've read—”

“ _Cool_?” Mòrag interrupts them to glare daggers at Zeke, affronted on Brighid’s behalf (not that Brighid feels any, really, this is all so ridiculous). “Brighid is the treasure of Mor Ardain, and one of the strongest Blades in all of Alrest. How dare you say she isn’t amazing? What greater pride and honor could one ever hope to achieve?”

Brighid feels a blush creeping onto her face, and she’s not sure out of what, embarrassment, or flattery. Maybe both. Mòrag’s earnestness is both a blessing and curse sometimes. This whole conversation is ridiculous and yet, Brighid feels her heart fluttering at Mòrag defending her so strongly, even for something like _this_.

“Whoa there! Cool yourself, Flamebringer,” Zeke says, and Mòrag bristles slightly at the use of her title, “I’m just saying, with someone as powerful as Brighid, she needs an awesome title of her own too, doesn’t she?”

_No, I don’t_ , Brighid wants to say, but Mòrag beats her to the punch.

“I hardly see the point. Brighid’s name is already enough to inspire awe. What use would a title be for her, if not redundant?” She scoffs, crossing her arms.

“You haven't seen the light yet,” Zeke says, still oddly determined to make Mòrag see his way. Brighid doesn’t see why he tries so hard sometimes, especially against someone so stubborn as Mòrag. Maybe it’s a trait of royalty, being hardheaded and stubborn. They're both so similar in that regard that it's almost funny.

Brighid meets Pandoria’s gaze and they both nod in commiseration, a newfound kindred respect forming between them.

“Think of it this way, then,” Zeke continues, “When your enemies see you and they cry out ‘ooh no, it’s the Flamebringer’ and get all scared out of their wits, how does that make ya feel?”

Mòrag tilts her head in thought before the corners of her lips tug upward in a smirk. “I… admit it does bring a certain amount of... satisfaction.”

And ego-boosting, Brighid wants to add, remembering how Mòrag had secretly preened upon learning the title coined to her.

“Yeah, see!” Zeke waves his hands all around. “You get it now! Brighid needs one of her own like that, don’t you think so?”

“I really don’t,” Brighid says as politely as she can. Her patience for this is drawing to an end. Where is Tora with a timely interruption when they need one? When _she_ finally needs one? How does he always know when to interrupt when she and Mòrag are trying to steal moments for themselves? The unfairness of it all!

“Hm…” Mòrag hums. The sound immediately sets off alarm bells in Brighid’s mind. It is _extremely_ telling that Mòrag is no longer outright denies Zeke’s words. That’s she’s even considering it now...

Why does her Driver have to be such a _fool_?

Brighid tries one last time. “Lady Mòrag, Zeke, I _really_ don’t—”

“Very well!” Mòrag throws out her hand in that grand gesture of hers. “Tell me then! What title will you give to Brighid? If it’s not one worthy of her name, I shall see fit your punishment!”

Brighid slowly puts her hands on her face.

“P-Punishment?” Pandoria pales.

Zeke, rather than running away like he _should be_ , only grins ferociously, seeing the challenge before him. He brings his hand to his chin, seemingly deep in thought. Or not. Brighid’s not too sure about him. Pandoria’s slowly backing away already, not wanting to get caught up in whatever Mòrag is willing to dish out. Not even her prince can force her to face the wrath of the Flamebringer herself.

Zeke continues to ponder before he suddenly snaps open his eyes. He looks over at Mòrag, nods to himself, and then over at Brighid. “Hah! I’ve got it! How’s this?”

“Brighid von Ladair, Grace of Blue Flames!”

Once more, silence, save for the sound of the wind howling around them and Tora shouting about Poppi not using her ether furnace to warm him up.

Pyra tilts her head left and right. “Hm… it doesn’t sound bad. I kind of like it!”

Zeke gives her a thumbs-up. “See! That’s a really good one, if I do say so myself.”

Not that it matters to Brighid, who’s nearly so shocked at what’s come out of Zeke’s mouth that she nearly, _almost_ opens her eyes. They’re staring at her now, waiting for her reaction, and she’s…

“I... “ Brighid’s unable to do much but gape at them. “Von… v-von… L-Ladair? M-me? What?”

Brighid… von… Ladair…

Brighid… von Ladair…

Brighid… Ladair—

The flames on the side of Brighid’s head suddenly intensify and warm the air. Pyra yelps in alarm and starts using her hands to fan the flames away.

“B-Brighid… L-Ladair…” Brighid whispers, horrified. It almost sounds… like… like if they were m-mar—

“Yeah! Nothing wrong with taking your Driver’s name, is there? Unless ya wanna use your titan.” He spreads his hands out, dramatically gesturing toward her. “Brighid von Mor Ardain, Grace of Blue Flames! Huh, now _that’s_ a mouthful.”

Without even waiting for Brighid, he turns to Mòrag. “Well, Mòrag, what’d you think about _that_? Pretty good, eh? Trying to make elegant titles isn't my sort of thing but I tried for Brighid!”

Brighid nearly curses aloud. Right. He’d been trying to impress _Mòrag._

And, what does Mòrag think of this? Brighid is almost afraid to know, and yet…

She steels herself, and turns to Mòrag.

Mòrag isn’t even looking at them, her eyes staring off in the distance as she holds her chin in her hand. “Hm…”

Evidently, and unfortunately, Zeke’s picked up on Mòrag’s habits as he runs right over to her and throws an arm around her shoulders and shakes her. “Haha! I knew you’d come around to it, Mòrag! Sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

But Mòrag doesn’t still respond to him or his shaking, still continuing to rub her chin in thought. Even Zeke stops shaking her, looking like he wants to nudge her head instead. He wisely considers against that and settles for slowly rocking her back and forth than the rapid shaking he’d done earlier. And still, Mòrag doesn’t even respond to his efforts for a reaction.  

“Brighid… von Ladair…” Mòrag says under her breath. “Brighid von Ladair…”

“L-Lady Mòrag?” Brighid… isn’t sure what Mòrag is even thinking of at this point. She’s not honestly even sure what to make of her Driver at this point either. Mòrag starts to tap a finger against her mouth, muttering the damned name to herself again.

“Brighid von Ladair…” she mutters again, “it’s… not bad… not bad at all.”

Brighid suddenly feels like screaming.

Except Mòrag turns to her right in that moment and, Architect _curse_ her, with nothing but complete seriousness, asks, “Don’t you think so, too, Brighid?”

For the second time that day and in such a short period of time, Brighid immediately finds herself at a loss for words.

Unbelievable.

Utterly…

Unbelievable.

“Brighid?” Mòrag asks, softening her expression and, oh, _no_ , how dare Mòrag do this, how dare she look at her like she’s asking some perfectly normal question. How can her Driver be such a huge fool, and yet… and _yet..._

Flames burst out of Brighid.

“At least drop the von!” she yells before storming away, leaving embers crackling in her wake.

“H-huh?! B-Brighid?!” Mòrag’s too stunned to move at first but she recovers quickly, tossing Zeke to the ground to dash off after her Blade. “What’s wrong?! Brighid! Hold up! And w-wait, what did you mean by drop the—”

Mòrag’s voice turns faint as she follows Brighid out of the harbor. Pandoria and Pyra slowly look at each other, nodding in understanding.

“Brighid’s got it tough, too, huh?” Pandoria finally says. She looks over at Zeke, who’s… oddly hunched over on the ground like he’s been defeated. “You okay there, my prince?” She almost wants to crouch down and poke him for a finger.

Rather than answering Pandoria, Zeke whips his head up and glares after Brighid.

“What did she mean by drop the von?! That’s the best part of the whole name!”


End file.
